By the time they reached the headstone, the worst of the fight had faded.
Not disappeared.
Just softened around the edges.
The cemetery was quiet in that strange pre-dawn way where the world still felt half asleep. Cool air drifted through the trees while the first traces of morning barely touched the sky.
Mel knelt first, brushing stray leaves away from her mother's grave carefully before arranging the flowers.
Ad stood beside her holding the wildflowers they'd picked together on the ride over.
For a moment he just watched her.
The familiar curve of her shoulders.
The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was emotional.
The quiet reverence she always carried here.
His chest tightened painfully.
He hated that she had to grow up without her mom.
Hated that part of her still seemed younger on this day every year.
Without thinking, he crouched beside her and placed the flowers down carefully next to the others.
"There," he murmured softly. "That better?"
Mel nodded faintly.
"Yeah."
A quiet settled between them.
Not awkward.
Sacred.
This was their place.
Their ritual.
And despite everything that had changed lately—
they were still here together.
Like always.
⸻
Ad rubbed his hands together once before sitting cross-legged in the grass.
Mel glanced sideways at him knowingly.
"Oh no," she muttered.
His mouth twitched immediately.
"Oh yes."
Despite herself, she smiled a little.
The annual rap had started as a joke years ago after one particularly awful visit where Mel cried so hard she could barely breathe. Ten-year-old Ad had panicked, then started freestyling nonsense updates to make her laugh.
And somehow...
it became tradition.
Now he did it every year.
Same ridiculous energy.
Same fake swagger.
Like her mother was still listening somewhere.
Ad cleared his throat dramatically.
"Aight," he announced toward the headstone. "Mrs. M, annual update time."
Mel rolled her eyes softly, already fighting a smile.
Ad started slow at first, rhythm tapping absentmindedly against his knee.
"Yo—
Your daughter still cheats whenever we play ball,
Still acts tough even when she's 'boutta fall,
Mike talks too much,
Yauch thinks too deep,
And I still gotta wake Mellie up from sleep..."
Mel snorted softly.
"There it is," Ad grinned before continuing.
He updated her mother on the music.
YOU ARE READING
Signals Crossed
RomanceThis is a story about childhood friendship that has stood the test of time even into adulthood. Central to the story is the friendship between Mel and Adam. As close as they are, they just can't seem to get it right. The one thing they seem to get r...
